Joy

Setting the Pace in Marriage

Last weekend, Mike and I attended a Weekend to Remember.  It was nice to have a weekend where we focused on our marriage in a more intentional way.  There were many special moments sprinkled throughout the three days, but my biggest takeaway happened as Mike and I were talking during a breakout session Saturday morning.  In that conversation, I realized how much we both had grown and matured over the years.  The issues that once had ignited heated discussions and arguments were now things we could talk about with commonness of heart.  How did that happen? How does a marriage that once was filled with frustration and gaps in communication become one of understanding and fullness? As I thought about it, I recalled various turning points in our marriage throughout the years that shifted things just a little in the right direction.  In trying to pin point the key to what made our marriage turn for the better, I came across a bit of a revelation which was partly triggered by one of the weekend speakers.  What I realized was that it wasn't one big thing that changed the way we communicated but rather hundreds of decisions along the way to keep silent.  Let me explain.

Early on in our marriage whenever we were having an argument, we both felt the need to say everything.  It was like in that one conversation we wanted to capture all that we were feeling about so many issues.  I know for me, I felt that if I didn't get my point across right then, it would never be heard.  I believed that in one argument flaws of character could be changed and all things wrong could be made right.  My expectations for disagreements were that they in and of themselves could resolve all problems quickly and effectively.  So I didn't hold back, whatever came to my mind I would speak with the hope that once my disappointments were verbalized, they would find resolution.  What I found though, was more frustration and more problems that needed solving.

I'm not sure when it started to happen but at some point in this ten year journey I started holding back and pacing myself.  I realized that I could use discretion in deciding what to say and when to say it.  Problems in marriage are not solved in one argument.  They are resolved over time and after many conversations.  Marriage will never be void of problems or things needing attention.  So why not pace ourselves for the long haul? Just because I choose silence today does not mean that what I want to say will never be heard.  It just means that right now is not the best time to mention that he didn't take the garbage out yet again.  I have never regretted keeping silent.  I have found that after the silence, I am better able to speak words of grace instead of judgement.

Marriage requires intentional and dedicated work no matter who you are with or how long you have been married. Practicing the "common sense" tips that characterize many a marriage seminar takes a courageous laying down of self. Sadly however, these seemingly obvious nuggets of wisdom are often dismissed because the solutions seem too easy.  How can something as simple as waiting to say something until it's the right time change a conflict-filled marriage into one of peace? I'm learning that it's the simple things practiced over time that make a world of difference in marriage.

The Clouds that Came

During my pregnancy with my second son, Zach, there were moments when I wondered how I would adjust to having another baby.  I don't tend to like change and am quite comfortable leaving things as they are.  Although, I wasn't opposed to having another baby, I had not been eager to get pregnant.

Parenting for me has been a journey of mixed blessing.  The Lord has given me much but He has also taken a lot.  From the beginning, before I ever held my first son, I had to let go of two little lives.  Even though God met me in that time of loss and brought a lot of healing, there remained a residual hurt. In many ways, pregnancy brings that pain to the surface forcing me to remember and to feel it all over again.

If I am honest, after I had my first son, there was a part of me that never wanted to get pregnant again.  I had given birth to a beautiful baby boy and that was enough for me.  The emotions that conception and pregnancy produced in me was something I wanted to leave behind.  I was grateful God had given me a baby but deep inside I was afraid of what would happen if I got pregnant again.

Well, I did get pregnant again.  It's hard to explain how you can feel excitement and love toward the new life that is forming inside of you but also feel dread and fear. I wrestled with these and many other emotions during my pregnancy.  As Zach's birth approached, I found myself praying a lot.  I prayed mostly for peace.  I wanted God's peace to cover me.  There was a part of me that knew the emotions I was feeling and the various things going on in my life were brewing up to make the perfect storm.

The first two weeks after Zach was born were blissful in many ways.  My birth experience was amazing and very empowering.  I felt instantly bonded to my new little son and felt very grateful for the gift God had given me.  I was also thankful that the "baby blues" had lasted only a few moments.  I remember thanking God for the short lived tears.

I can't pinpoint what changed but something did at around the four week mark. I found myself feeling overwhelmed even though at this point I was getting more sleep.  I was afraid of being alone with the boys.  I felt insecure of how to care for them.  I was irritable.  I cried because I didn't know what to do.  I felt like I was broken and wounded.

 I reached out to my husband for support.  At first he was unsure of how to help me and felt that I wasn't really depressed but needed to change my perspective and expectations of myself.  To a point he was correct but I was having a hard time doing those things and so I told him that in order for me to get to that place, I would need him to step in and help me.

Mike did everything he could to support me from taking additional blocks of time off of work to be at home, to taking the boys with him when I needed a break.  At first it was working okay but then it started to wear on him.  He started feeling like he couldn't get work done and hold things together at home as well.  I could sense his frustration which made me feel even worse for not being able to pull myself together.

Now just for some perspective.  I was functioning rather well on the surface.  I could get out of bed every day, clean the house, dress the boys, play with them, tend to their needs, and even go out and do stuff with them.  The difference was that inside I felt like running away because I didn't feel capable of handling my life.  When Mike would go to work, I would start feeling anxious. There were days when I didn't think I could face another day. This is how I knew that what I was feeling was not just normal parenting stress.

After a couple of weeks of struggling, I decided to make an appointment with a counselor.  After my first session, I felt a lot better.  It helped to voice my fears and admit how hard my life seemed right now.  She encouraged me to get extra support the next several weeks/months, however long it took for me to feel better.  She affirmed that I wasn't crazy for feeling the way I was feeling. She also told me it was okay to ask for help.

One of my biggest hang ups on asking for more help was that I knew there were other moms who managed motherhood with less support than I, and they were doing just fine.  Why couldn't I just suck it up and do it too?  I felt guilty for wanting help even though I needed it.  I felt even worse going back to my husband and telling him, I needed more.

I sat down with Mike and made a plan.  I told him that this was temporary and that I knew I would get better but I really needed his help to make it happen.  He told me that he would do whatever it took in order to help me get better. This took a huge burden off my shoulders knowing that my husband was willing to listen when I needed to talk and step in for me in my time of weakness.

This is the plan we came up with:

• Exercise 3x's a week for 45 minutes
• Counseling session 1x per week
• Invite a mom friend over on Mike's long day of work so that I didn't feel so alone
• I would talk about my feelings and cry when I needed to
• I would ask my close friends/family to pray for me
• Mike would take an extra day off of work each week until I felt better
• Mike would only be gone two evenings a week in order to help me with the bedtime routine
• I would try to let go of unrealistic expectations that were making me feel like a failure
• If all of the other interventions didn't help me and I was still struggling after a few weeks, I would make an appointment with my OB and get started on some meds.

A little over five weeks passed from the beginning of this ordeal until I felt that I had a breakthrough.  I was praying one night and I cried out to God in my distress.  I claimed the deliverance that was mine as a child of His.  I pleaded that he would heal my heart and mind.  I asked Him to return joy to my life.  I went to bed crying that night hoping that God would come to my rescue.

The next morning I got up and I felt different. Mike left early to church because he was preaching. I got the boys ready by myself.  I didn't feel afraid or overwhelmed.  I went through church with both of them and continued to feel fine.  The anxiety was gone.  The dread of living was gone. I was at peace.

The following day, I told Mike he should go play basketball (he usually goes Sunday mornings but had missed several weeks because I was such a mess).  He looked at me a bit surprised.  I told him I felt fine and that he should go.  The rest of the day continued with the same peace I had experienced the day before.  Every day since then has been the same.  Sure, the stresses of parenting are still there but my outlook is different.  I'm no longer afraid to be alone.  I don't feel incapable of caring for my boys anymore.  I look forward to a new day.

I know God answered my prayer that night.  But I also know that all the other things that we put in place also made a difference.  God's ways are dynamic and seldom work in isolation of others.  We need others to make it during the good and bad times.  It's tempting to let go of the supports I have in place now that I'm feeling better. I have come to realize however, that I need them in place to continue to feel better, at least for awhile.

Mike is stepping back just a little but he's still helping out with the boys.  I think every mom needs their husband's support.  It definitely makes for a happier mommy!   I will continue going to counseling and working through some of my hang-ups with perfectionism, fear, and loss. I am going to give myself permission to talk about my feelings rather than hide from them or stuff them down.  I will reach out to other moms for support and friendship.  I will continue to pray and praise the God who is more than able to care for my every need.

I felt it was important for me to write about my experience because there is such a stigma surrounding depression and motherhood.  It's not a topic that is readily discussed at mommy groups or at family gatherings. I felt uncomfortable bringing it up even to those closest to me.  It took me weeks to actually say, "I have postpartum depression." Admitting it made me feel weak. I also think there is a bit of ambivalence in many mothers in knowing if what they are experiencing is indeed PPD or just a bad day or two.  When I went online to look at the symptoms for PPD, I didn't feel that I was experiencing a lot of what I was reading.

Most days, I found pleasure in doing the things I normally enjoyed. I laughed often. I never lost interest in caring for my boys. I was attentive and aware of their needs. I had energy to clean my house. I even had a desire to go to the gym and workout.  If I had only looked at my exterior actions, I could have easily dismissed the feelings I was having inside. But in all honesty, my efforts to have a clean house were a cover up for the feelings of inadequacy that were plaguing me. My desire to go to the gym was my way of coping with the waves of tears and sadness that came when I least expected them.  Like I mentioned earlier, the sure tell sign for me that I was experiencing PPD was the intensely negative emotions I was experiencing that wouldn't go away.

There are different tools you can use to determine if you have PPD.  The most common is the Edinburgh Postnatal Depression Scale.  The one I really liked was just two questions long.  1) Over the past 2 weeks, have you felt down, depressed, or hopeless? and 2) Over the past 2 weeks , have you felt little interest or pleasure in doing things?  A positive response to either question indicates a positive screen and should be followed up by an expanded history to confirm the diagnosis of depression.

There are certain risk factors that typically are present in women that develop PPD.  Some of them applied to me but most did not.  Here's a list of the things I believe contributed to PPD in me:

• My intense desire to do things right (perfectionism)
• My tendency to measure my worth by the success of what I do (baby Zach was not doing things by the book (imagine that! :) and it was making me feel like a failure and very insecure). 
• History of infertility
• Two previous miscarriages
• Lack of a strong support system 

So there you have it, my PPD story.  I know there are women that struggle much longer than I did and my heart truly goes out to them because dealing with depression and raising children is the hardest thing in the world.  I hope that my story will help other women take courage during their time of struggle and reach out for help.  I know that I couldn't have gone through this time alone.  I believe if I would have, I would still be struggling today.

For now the clouds appear to have lifted.  I am so grateful for that. I pray they don't come back, but if they do, I know I am not alone. 

Little Teachers

Recently, I came across a book, Sacred Parenting, that is challenging me to take a closer look at myself and the work God is doing in my heart as I parent my children.  The main premise of the book is that parenting is as much a molding of the parent as it is the child.  God uses parenting to teach us transcendent lessons.  Lessons on how to sacrifice, how to handle guilt, how to laugh, how to live courageously, how to face our inadequacy, how to grieve, how to pray.....the lessons are never ending.

Parenting is like a mirror that shows us the inner workings of our souls.  If there is selfishness, parenting will expose it.  If there is impatience, it will be seen in our children's faces. If there is friction in the marriage relationship, the inconsistencies will show their fruit in our children's hearts.  If we are willing to see, the Lord will reveal the ugliness so that He can strip it away and transform it.

A couple of evenings ago, I was rocking my 4 week old baby to sleep.  He had started in the swing but grew tired of it within a couple of minutes.  My oldest son had loved his swing and could go to sleep in it without a fuss.  I found myself wishing my newest little one could do the same.  On the surface this seemed like a reasonable desire from a tired momma's heart but as I looked deeper, I found a hidden resentment on having to spend the time to rock my baby to sleep.

I closed my eyes and I prayed: "Lord, what is it that you want to teach me right now?"  The answer was instant, "I want you to learn to be in relationship.  I want you to value closeness more than the accomplishing of tasks." The conviction pierced deep. I am a person who loves to do, do, do.  I often separate myself from others for the sake of the task that needs to be done.

I settled into the moment of being with my tired baby knowing that God was doing a refining work in me.  My baby with his dislike for the swing was teaching me about the value of closeness.  He was teaching me about relationship.  My heart worshiped as I realized the depth of God's wisdom and grace.

As I go through my days, there is an underlying sense of excitement because God is in all things.  The question is, 'will I see Him?' Will I have the opportunity to commune with Him?' For me, parenting from this place of anticipation makes the journey not so lonely because I know that God is here right next to me.


Thank you Lord Jesus for the refining work you are doing within me.  Open my eyes that I would see more clearly and embrace more fully the path you have set before me.  Help me to walk it with grace and love, holding your hand every step.  Every step.  Amen.

Learning how to Breathe

A friend once told me that motherhood is a continual pouring, a calling to surrender 'self' for the sake of our children.  For me, great tension exists in the letting go.  There is a resistance, a desire to keep some of 'me' protected.  It is this tension, this guardedness, that brings me to my knees in search of release.


The conviction is always the same: If I am to parent in the way of love, I must surrender every last piece of myself.  I must let go of the 'me' I have created and embrace the 'me' that God wishes to reveal.

Recently, I came across a quote from a blog I follow:

"It’s always fear that brings tension — the tension that brings the pain. And then it’s the pain that makes us think that we can’t go on… So when the world contracts tight… breathe deep, and let it all come with no fear, no fear."

Who knew that raising children is very much the same work as birthing them? With each contraction there is a decision a mother must make.  Will she fear the rhythms of labor or will she embrace their power? Will she resist the pain or will she surrender to it?  Will she breathe or will she keep her breath within her?

As the days of parenting dawn with unabated regularity, I find myself reminding my weary heart to breathe.

           'Surrender to the moment and release the fear,' I whisper as I rock a crying babe. Breathe.

           'Listen to his heart as you gather his flailing arms in your embrace,' I tell myself as I scoop up my distraught three-year-old. Breathe.

As I breathe, I discover that there is peace on the other side of each breath.

I know that with each breath, I am slowly learning how to let go.  I am teaching my sinful heart to surrender to the unpredictability of being a parent. I am placing myself in the realms of holiness.  Parenting is the place where God is revealed in splendorous beauty.  It is the place where what we give is always overshadowed with what we receive.

Lord, fill me with your breath.  Remind me of your presence.  Help me to 'let go' and embrace the refining work you desire to do within me.  Thank you for the gift of two precious boys. 

The Way of Love

My almost three-year-old Matthew was determined to push the limits at every turn today.  I struggled from the moment he woke up until the early evening hours.  My challenge was in choosing the way of love.

There was a moment in the day when I went into his room to debrief after a time-out and tears came to my eyes as I talked to him about obedience and kindness.  How my heart wanted for him to choose obedience going forward, but I knew that ultimately it would be his decision.  As we both walked out of his room, I knew deep inside that I could not orchestrate a submissive heart within him.  He must choose it.

It's difficult to parent from a position of love instead of control.

Love is patient.  Love is kind. Love bears all things. Love endures all things.  It was hard to choose love today, but I was reminded that I must choose love if I am to minister to my child's heart.

At the end of the day, the Lord gave me a gift.  I had given Matthew a bath and he was ready to go to bed. He came running to me and climbed on my lap.  His big brown eyes stared at me and with the sweetest smile he said, "I LOVE YOU!" His little arms wrapped around me and my heart finally found a resting place.  We both settled into the embrace.  All the wrongs of the day were made right with a moment of love.

Thank you Lord for choosing love every time.  Help me to take in more of your love that I would be more able to pour it out over my children.  Oh, that they would receive patience, kindness, service, and delight from me. Amen.

A Special Gift

She walked up to the door unassuming, ready to give of herself to me.  That morning she purposed in her heart to come and serve.  Heaven had called her on assignment for me and she responded.

"I know how hard it can be with a newborn so I have come to spend the day with you.  I am here to do whatever you need so you can get some rest," she said gently.

Had she heard my tired tears from the day before?  Did my weary heart somehow connect with hers even though I had never spoken with her before?

"I pray about everything.  I am a firm believer in bringing all things before Him, " she said.

The grace of heaven continues to pour out on my behalf.  A tired momma is important in the heavenly realms.  My heart breaks at the kindness of it all.

The gift of community is deep and life changing.  Receiving help from another refreshes the soul.  Why was I so reluctant to ask and receive before?  Self sufficiency keeps the heart at a distance.  It is a lonely place to live.  I want to live in community and bask in the blessing of the giving and receiving.

Thank you Lord for being attentive to my needs.  Pour forth blessing over the woman you sent to serve me today.  Your grace continues to overwhelm.  I slowly find myself unraveling before you wanting to receive more of You.  I am undeserving but your grace covers me!  Praise be to you Lord Jesus. 

Birth Story

Giving birth is life changing.  I knew early on during my pregnancy that the journey to birthing this particular child was going to change me somehow.  I wasn't sure what was going to happen or what would change. There was just a sense that something would.

I know it goes without saying that motherhood changes all women.  Every time we give birth, there is change.  The tilling of the heart goes deeper with each new life we bring into the world.  

Going into this birth, I wanted to embrace the "tilling" work God wanted to do in my heart.  I wanted to be present and feel the rocky places within me start to crumble away. I was frightened in many ways because I wasn't sure what the Lord wanted to give me.

My first birth experience ended with an emergency c-section ( I had a placental abruption while pushing).  At the time, I don't remember being disappointed or wishing things had gone different.  I was just happy that everything turned out okay.  I had a healthy baby boy.  When I found out I was pregnant with my second, I assumed that I would have to schedule another c-section.  I prepared to talk about it with my doctor at my first appointment.

 Before I met with my doctor, I happened to have a conversation with a woman who had a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean) delivery with her second pregnancy. When I first heard her story, I remember thinking that she was somehow irresponsible for putting herself and her baby at risk for something catastrophic to happen.

Out of curiosity, I went home and did some research on VBAC's.  I was shocked to find out how small the risk really was for uterine rupture (the main concern when it comes to VBAC's).  For the next several weeks, I read everything I could find on VBAC's.  I wanted to know the risks.  I wanted to know why some women were successful while others were not.  I wanted to know the risks involved with a repeat c-section vs. a trial of labor (VBAC).  I wanted to hear other women's experiences and learn from their stories.

After looking at all the evidence, I decided that I would find a doctor who did VBAC's and talk with him about my chances of having a successful vaginal delivery.  The hospital where I live did not allow VBAC's so I decided to find a hospital that allowed them.  Lucky for me, I found a hospital about 30 minutes away.

At my first appointment, I discussed my desire to have a VBAC birth.  My doctor told me that I was probably a good candidate for one ( I went into labor spontaneously with my first and reached full dilation) but there were still risks involved.  He continued to tell me that if this was my last birth, a repeat c-section was probably the safest route to take.

I left the appointment a bit conflicted.  Was I being irresponsible for wanting to avoid another c-section? Is any risk worth taking when it comes to the safety of your baby?  I decided to continue researching before making a final decision.  The more I researched, the more I discovered that if I wanted a successful VBAC, I would have to be very proactive in making a solid plan.  These are the things I found, I needed to have in place:

1) have an OB or Midwife that was an avid supporter of VBAC's and was willing to treat them like any other birth.
2) have a Doula present at the birth
3) deliver at a hospital with low c-section rates (birth centers and home births have better outcomes with VBAC's but I wasn't comfortable going that route).
4) avoid induction
5) avoid an epidural
6) have a healthy pregnancy

(Here's a copy of the Birth Plan I put together)

Armed with a plan, I decided to move forward and make it happen.  I searched for a doula and found one that I loved.  There was something about her that just clicked for me.  Before meeting her, I was browsing through her web page and I came across a picture of her with her kids that immediately made me tear up.   In that moment, I knew she was the one.

After meeting her and talking with her about my birth desires, she suggested an OB that was a great supporter of VBAC's and natural birth.  This of course meant that I would have to change doctors and hospitals.  I looked up the new hospitals c-section rates and found that they were much lower than the hospital where I was currently planning to deliver.  I called the new doctor's office and after the doctor personally called me back to find out more of my story, I was sold.  Having him as my OB was going to be a bit of a sacrifice as his office was almost an hour from where I lived.  I decided it was worth it.

My pregnancy progressed uneventfully until about 29 1/2 weeks when I started showing signs of pre-term labor.  After some tests and many contractions later, I was put on bed rest for several weeks.  During that time, I had lots of time to think and pray.  I was reassured that everything would turn out according to God's plan.  I was called to trust and wait for the Lord to provide for me.  Little did I know then, how perfect is His timing.

As my due date was approaching, I started to worry that I wouldn't go into labor on my own and I would have to be induced.   So I decided to schedule an appointment with my massage therapist for an acupressure session to help bring on labor.  I saw Amy throughout my pregnancy for massages and really grew to appreciate the gifts God's given her. She is a Christian and would often pray over me during massage sessions.  God is so faithful in His provision.  On this particular day, as she was doing her thing, she looked at me and said, "I hate to tell you this but I have never been successful at bringing on labor with any of my pregnant clients."  I laughed and said, "Well, maybe I'll be your first!"  That night, minutes before midnight, labor started welcoming in a new day......August 26th, my due date.

Contractions came on strong from the very beginning.  There was no build up.  I started timing them and they were about 5-6 minutes apart. I decided to take a bath and see if they would continue.  After about an hour, I told my husband that I was pretty sure this was labor.  It took about another half hour to get things together before we left to the hospital.  During the hour drive, I listened to my birthing relaxation playlist I had put together.  Throughout my pregnancy I was very diligent about practicing relaxation techniques.   Having these skills definitely helped me work through the intense contractions on the way to hospital (they felt as strong as when I had gotten an epidural with my first birth at 7 cm.)  I must have been relaxing pretty well because Mike thought I was sleeping!

When we got to the hospital and they checked me, I was only 4-5 cm.  I turned to Mike and said, "That's it?! I can't do this!  I need an epidural!"  Mike looked at me with bewilderment and uncertainty.  He knew our birth plan and an epidural this early on was not a part of it.  "Let's wait for Sarah (our doula) and you can decide then," he said.  Luckily, Sarah showed up a few minutes later.

It's hard to explain how someone's presence can change the mood and energy in the room.  As Sarah came over to me, there was a confidence about her that reassured me that I was going to do this.  She quickly suggested trying different positions to help speed things along.  I labored mostly standing up or kneeling on the bed.  There were times when I would sit down because the contractions didn't feel as intense it that position but Sarah would gently tell me that it was the intense ones that would progress things more quickly.  I managed to sneak a few not-so-intense ones in anyway :) With every contraction, regardless of the position I chose, both Sarah and Mike were there to support me through by holding me, giving me water, or encouraging me to eat something.

One of the various positions I tried during labor.  I'm six hours in at this point.

Working through a contraction. I think I was about 8-9cm dilated.

 In the background, I could hear the worship music playing from my Ipod.  This helped me to focus on something other than the discomfort.  I remember thinking about sin and the pain that comes from it.  I remember thinking about Jesus and His gift to us on the cross to relieve our pain and suffering.  I remember feeling grateful.

I don't remember how far along I was, maybe 8 cm, when I asked Sarah and Mike to pray for me.   Mike started to pray.  I don't know what all he said but it touched me.  After he was done, I started to sob.  I wasn't crying because I was in pain.  I was overwhelmed with the reality of His faithfulness to me.  His grace washed over me in a rush and it broke my heart.  I looked at Sarah and Mike and said, "He is so faithful!"

The doctor broke my water at around 8.5 cm.  This progressed things more quickly.  I was soon at 9 cm, then 9.5cm.  This is where things got very intense!  My labor stalled for about 3 hours at this stage.  It's hard to describe the power of contractions when you're almost at complete dilation. There is an uncontrollable pushing sensation that you can't hold back even if you try. Kinda scary at first!

The nurse suggested we try pushing for a bit to see if that last little lip of cervix would give way.  It didn't.  I was really struggling to stay focused.  I was very tired.  I had labored for about 10 hours at this point.  I looked at Sarah and told her I didn't think I could do this any more.  I needed some relief.  She tried to reassure me that I was very close and that I could do it.  I wanted to believe her but my body was telling me otherwise. I knew that I had made it far enough that an epidural would probably not stall things enough where I would have to have a c-section (when I had an epidural with my first birth, my labor had stalled significantly).   I tried to communicate to my "birthing team" that my ultimate goal was not to have a natural birth but rather to have a successful VBAC.  At some point, I remember saying, "God isn't against epidurals!" Both Sarah and Mike just looked at me and I could tell they weren't going to be the ones that were going to encourage me in the epidural route so I turned to the nurse.

"I need help! Can I get an epidural?" I asked. The nurse said I could but that I was so close, it may not make a difference.  She told me that it would take at least 10 minutes for the anesthesiologist to come in and if I could labor for those 10 minutes she would check me again.  If I was complete then we would just have the baby.  If not, then we could revisit the whole epidural thing.  I agreed.

After the 10 minutes were up, she checked me.  I remember praying that I wouldn't be complete so that I could get the epidural.  The nurse looked at me and said that I was 9.75 cm but there was still a tiny lip of cervix there.  That was probably the best news I heard all day!  Bring on the epidural!  By the time I got it put it, I was already fully dilated.  Although it provided some relief, it was not all I had hoped for.  I remember asking if I could get a higher dose and I was told a very firm "No."

The doctor checked me and confirmed that I was fully dilated and was ready to push.  Before I started pushing, the doctor decided to check the position of the baby.  Throughout labor I had pretty intense back pain.  Sarah suspected the baby might be posterior.  When the doctor checked, he confirmed that the baby was in fact posterior.  He then decided to manually turn the baby.  As he was doing it, I remember thinking how thankful I was that I decided to have an epidural.  Even though I still felt much of the discomfort, it was bearable.  I can't imagine what it would have felt like with no numbing effect.

I pushed for about an hour and sometime during that hour we lost the baby's heart beat. I don't remember being overly concerned because I just knew things were going to work out.  The doctor on the other hand was looking a bit concerned. They decided to have me get on my hands and knees to see if they could find the heart beat again.  The nurses started rubbing my stomach and thankfully the heart beat came back.

At 11:26am, little Zachari Noah was born.  It was a pretty incredible feeling to have a living soul come out of my very own body.  I was able to hold him for awhile and even cut the cord.  It was truly an amazing experience.  In the moments following the birth I remember feeling triumphant.  I had put a plan in place and with the help of many wonderful people, it was implemented, and carried to completion.  Being the goal oriented, planner person that I am, this was incredibly rewarding.

So glad Zach is here!

Tired but happy :)

Mike holding Zach for the first time. 

There are several things that I learned during this birth...four gifts that I received.

1) The Gift of Community: the hard things of life are not meant to be done alone.  We need others to support us and push us to new limits.  We need to know that other people believe in us.  Others are sometimes better able to see things in ourselves that we cannot.  This birth taught me how to ask for and receive help.

2) The Gift of Living in the Moment: Life is meant to be experienced in present moments.  Living in the past and future can lead to disappointment, restlessness, and fear.  If I would have known that I would labor for 11 1/2 hours at the beginning, I would have given up much earlier.  Taking one contraction at a time made the whole experience bearable and even enjoyable at times.


3) The Gift of Strength: There is strength hidden within each of us that we are not tapping into because we don't place ourselves in situations that require more strength.  This experience showed me how strong I really am.   I learned that I don't have to limit myself to situations that feel comfortable but that I can venture out into the unknown and challenge myself to reach new heights.

4) The Gift of Grace: God is gracious.  He wants to give us good things.  Pregnancy for me has been a mixture of much joy and great pain.  Two miscarriages and two births have shown me that God's grace extends far into the darkness and brings forth light. Every time.

Thank you Lord, for your presence.   This experience was bathed in your grace. You are the source of my strength and the supplier of every good thing.  Praise be to you Almighty God for your provision and kindness toward me.  Bless those who were a part of this experience with me.  Thank you for bringing them into my life and using them to help me see you more clearly.  Amen. 

Trust

Being patient requires such a surrender, a relinquishing of control to the unknown rhythms of time.  Trusting God to bring life into the world in His time almost seems counterintuitive in a world where inductions and interventions are freely available and encouraged.  I've wrestled with trusting this week, especially since my due date is a few days away.

 'What if nothing happens?'

'What can I do to speed things along?'

'What if I have to get induced?'

The questions and doubts crowd my mind.  Unsettling. Disturbing peace.  Breaking trust.

In my search for knowledge and the playing out of every possible scenario, I am grasping for control.  More of me. Less of God.

There is Spirit in all things.  In the Breath.  In the Life.  In the waiting.  I am reminded this week that even though it's normal to be anxious when you're 39 1/2 weeks pregnant, and no one will fault you for complaining.  I am not called to that.  I am called to trust and rest in His provision for me.  I am called to let go of control and bask in His perfect timing.

Lord Jesus, be my peace and anchor as I wait for this precious baby to come.  You hold time and days in Your hand.  Little Zach's days were set from the beginning.  You speak, and life springs forth.... from darkness into light.  May it be as you have ordained it.  Help me to trust you. Amen.

Growing in Grace

As I place a hand on my growing belly, I wonder when love and devotion rose up, enabling me to care for a being I have never seen or held.  Daily I make decisions to care for this child, to protect him from harm.  I am human.  I am a sinner, yet I love.  I love that which I have never seen.

Does God love me unconditionally?  Will He love me forever? I wonder this a lot.  In many ways this is my thorn.  The doubt.  The questions.  The uncertainty.  It is an endless cycle that is  always dependent on performance, never on grace.

As I prepare for the birth of my second son, there is a sense that I am birthing more than a new life.  There is a door that is waiting to open. A door that God has opened other times before and I have repeatedly chosen to close.   It is the door to Grace. When this door opens, there is something that breaks inside of me. I cry every time.  There is pain that comes when sin's grip loosens it's ugly hold and leaves me in a sacred space.   There is a flood of emotions and truth.

I am Undeserving.

     I am Exposed.

I am Loved.


           I am Vulnerable.


              I am chosen.

I am Seen.

I marvel at the fact that I can love that which I don't see, yet the biggest miracle of all is that the Divine loves that which He sees.  Nothing is hidden from His gaze. He sees it all and He chooses love every time.

I can picture myself looking at my baby's face for the first time, marveling at the innocence. I can almost feel the knot in my throat by the grace of it all.  My hope is that I will allow myself the indulgence of resting in the sacredness of His gift to me.  I pray that I will revel in the moment when my own mother heart unites with the heart of God in loving this child forever.  In the seen and unseen times of his life, may love always remain.

As I walk through the door of grace, Lord Jesus enable me to comprehend some of the depth and breath of Your love for me. May I see myself through Your eyes as I look into the eyes of my precious boys.  Oh, that your love would overwhelm my doubts and leave only the reality of your grace. Amen.